


don't threaten me with a good time

by maddy_does (favefangirl)



Series: carry on countdown 2020 [24]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drinking, Drug Use, F/M, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Sex, POV Agatha Wellbelove, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28153230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favefangirl/pseuds/maddy_does
Summary: When she thinks of fire, she thinks of Watford, and she's very distinctly trying not to do that. It burns regardless, and her grimace is mirrored by that of the guy who'd handed her the drink. She doesn't remember his name, doesn't even remember if he told her it. She doesn't care - she's not supposed to care. She's supposed to wear this dress that's cut a little too low, and take shots she doesn't like, then go back to his place and take pride in her walk of shame the next morning. This is who she is now, this is the power she has.
Relationships: Agatha Wellbelove/Original Male Character(s)
Series: carry on countdown 2020 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026733
Kudos: 3
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	don't threaten me with a good time

**Author's Note:**

> Carry On Countdown Day 24, Dec 18: Song Fic
> 
> I pressed shuffle on my playlist and Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time by Panic! At the Disco is the song that came up, so I wrote based on this.
> 
> Prequel to [Luna Girl](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802213/)

The tequila burns as she takes the shot, all the way down her throat like fire. No - not fire. When she thinks of fire, she thinks of Watford, and she's very distinctly trying not to do that. It burns regardless, and her grimace is mirrored by that of the guy who'd handed her the drink. She doesn't remember his name, doesn't even remember if he told her it. She doesn't care - she's not _supposed_ to care. She's supposed to wear this dress that's cut a little too low, and take shots she doesn't like, then go back to his place and take pride in her walk of shame the next morning. This is who she is now, this is the power she has.

"Gorgeous," he says into her ear, and she has to fight not to role her eyes at him. She's heard it a million time before.

She presses their bodies together. "Want to get out of here?" She slurs into his ear. 

She's playing up the drunkenness. She can barely feel the effects of the alcohol, knows it takes more than some tequila shots and a cocktail to get her tipsy. It's a fake it till she makes it situation, though, and as she reasons, if she's drunk she has an excuse for this when her roommate asks her about it in the morning. She doesn't quite know how to explain that it's all part of the new person she needs to become, knows it doesn't make any sense.

The guy nods, and tries to take her hand. She doesn't let him, instead walking ahead of him to lead him out of the club. She hates holding hands, especially with the guys she meets on nights like this who are clammy and sticky, and she doesn't know where they've been. She won't hold his hand but later, she'll let those same hands roam her whole body without question. It's the intimacy that's the problem, see.

The drive to his house is a blur of street lights, of traffic, of other drunk students stumbling around in heels they can barely walk in, especially with so much alcohol in their system. He takes them both to a frat house, and she vaguely remembers him mentioning he was a senior majoring in psychology, or physics, or something. He leads her into the house with a hand on her lower back which makes her shudder, but she doesn't brush him off. 

Inside the house, a party is raging. There's music, louder even than had been playing at the club. Scantily clad girls with full faces of make-up and heels taller than Agatha grind against boys in basketball shorts and vests in the living room. There's the distinct smell of weed in the air, and Agatha is half-tempted to seek out the joint. Just as she's about to turn to where the smell is coming from, she notices white powder on the table, and changes her mind - she may be doing everything she can to play the part, but she still has limits.

As she's led up the stairs, she reminds herself what this is about. It's just sex, the guy is just a warm body, but this whole thing is about her reinvention. It's about her taking control of her own life and not being the damsel anymore. At Watford, with Simon, with Baz, she'd been the pretty pawn, the side character, the emotional filter. She doesn't want to be any of these things anymore, and so instead she's this. She's unrefined, she drinks and smokes and goes home to frat houses with drugs in the kitchen to sleep with men whose names she does not know. She's cruel and doesn't let people take her for a fool, not anymore. 

She wakes up the next day in someone else's t-shirt, in bed with the face she recognises from the night before, as well as a series of bodies sprawled out on a mattress in the corner of the room. She extracts herself from the messy sheets, finds her dress on the floor, and heads into the ensuite to change. Once she has, she looks at her reflection in the mirror - the mascara around her eyes, the lipstick brushed across her cheek. She looks suitably dishevelled for the girl she's trying to be.

She grabs her shoes and her bag before leaving. She makes her way downstairs and out the back, the way they'd come in. Someone's asleep on an inflatable unicorn in the pool, floating around amongst empty beer cans and plastic bags. There are condoms in the bushes by the gate as she exits, but she doesn't stop to check if they're used. She's not that far from her own apartment block, so she forgoes the Uber and walks. She likes California this early in the morning. It's as quiet as the place ever gets, the sun is warm but not unbearable, and birds tweet in the trees, singing their songs as though serenading her. She walks barefoot along the sand, relishing the squishiness between her toes. She wonders, sometimes, what it would be to be this girl instead - the 6 am walk along the beach in cotton dresses, full of hopes for the day, rather than regrets from the night before. She doesn't dwell, though, because soon she reaches her apartment block.

She walks up to her apartment and opens the door as quietly as she can, almost certain her roommate will still be in bed at this early hour. To her surprise, when she steps inside, her roommate is sat at the table with a guest. The stranger is tall as they stand up, wearing a pinafore dress with a striped t-shirt underneath. Agatha notices immediately the unshaved legs, the hair cropped by their ears, the rainbow socks visible above their beat up Doc Martin shoes. Agatha gets a feeling in her gut that feel something like butterflies, but she pushes them down.

"Hi!" The person greets, warmly.

"Agatha," her roommate says. "This is my friend Lou."

Agatha smiles back meekly. Her roommate gives her the same strained look she always does when Agatha shows up the next morning smelling like a brewery and wearing the same dress from the night before, but she's always been good enough not to say anything. Agatha shifts her gaze to Lou trying to discern any judgement from them, but instead Lou is still giving her that beaming smile, biting their lip slightly. Agatha can't tell if that's a dusting of a blush on their cheeks, or a trick of the lights. She doesn't stay to interrogate it.

"I'm going to shower," Agatha says, pointing to the bathroom with her thumb. "It was good to meet you though."

"You too!" Lou replies, and good lord, she actually seems sincere.

Agatha offers a meek smile, then turns to take a shower. She hears her roommates phone ring, but ignores it. She steps into the shower and lets the water run over her, already mentally preparing for another entirely unremarkable night.

**Author's Note:**

> for those that have read Luna Girl, that's the night she and lou talk and agatha decides to be true to herself.
> 
> for all that i've said i don't like agatha and didn't enjoy writing about her, i did like revisiting this :)
> 
> anyway, if you wanna leave a comment or a kudos they're much appreciated! especially let me know if there's something you think i forgot to tag! i'm really not sure about the rating?
> 
> i'm taking prompts! if you're interested please drop the prompt in the comments below. if you do send a prompt be prepared for me to take fifty years to fill it because school is so hard (or, i guess, uni now, lol), but i promise i'll try! come say hi on tumblr: [@maddy-does](https://maddy-does.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading, have a wonderful existence.


End file.
